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to Edmund Dulac
spooning out the ambrosia of late afternoon
for the stepsisters' snack, so
Cinderella spilled the sunlight on
the floor and was reprimanded.
later, in moonlight, after they'd gone,
fluttering their rococo fans
way off in a lavendered distance-
while sweeping up the crumbs
of a frilled disdain that lingered…
she heard enchantment's music rise
turning her blue gown roseate on the instant.
spun out on a dewdrop's galaxy alone-
pure gladness danced on a bird note-call
(bright pomegranate, after all)
from the mystically star-showered gardens
mary angela douglas 27 august 2012
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